The Philippines on His Mind

The other day, son surprised self exceedingly, when we were walking down University Avenue in Palo Alto, by stopping dead in his tracks, sniffing the air, and saying: “This reminds me of Manila.”

Granted, it was a very muggy day, and there was a haze in the air. It was the day after the raging San Bruno Mountain fire, one of many burning all over California, which hubby and self had seen, way off in the distance, after dropping Dearest Mum off at Daly City uncle’s house, the night before.

Now, son is in Philadelphia. Even though hubby told him not to leave the airport while waiting for his connecting flight to Madrid, he did. He found that the train to downtown Philadelphia and Market Street was ony $7, and he took it.

Then, he got lost. And e-mailed self for directions. But self’s MacBook went ka-blooey, and she could not get on-line. After a miserable two hours, son text-ed again: He’d somehow found his way to an area where there were a lot of historical buildings and was wandering around looking for the Liberty Bell.

All morning, son has been txt-ing self his impressions of the city, which self finds to be a very welcome break from grading papers. Son’s last message is: “The current weather. The people. The mall I’m currently sitting in. Philadelphia reminds me of the Philippines. And that’s not necessarily a good thing.”

And self texts back: “The reason I loved living on the East Coast, the year after I graduated from Stanford, was because I missed the crowds, the heat of Asia.”

And now? Now she doesn’t miss home so much. It follows that she likes the East Coast less.